Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Besides, I know the drill. We deal with this every day.
My fingertips strum against the table.
Even if Freddy knew where I was, I’m nowhere near Savannah. And with charges against him, he can’t even leave the state of Georgia.
The whole thing is overblown, anyway. He had a moment of empowerment and was going to scare me. But now that he’s getting rung up on resisting arrest, assault, and whatever else, I’m probably the least of his problems.
I bite my lip.
So one quick call to Burt wouldn’t hurt, would it?
I press against my belly and feel it churn. It hurts. I probably have an ulcer already. And, most importantly, Burt is my best neighbor. He’s probably lying in his hospital bed alone, with no one visiting him and no one giving a crap.
Tears roll down my cheeks.
I move quickly, before I can change my mind, and hustle upstairs to my bag. I find my phone. With shaky hands, I hold the power button.
As soon as the lights come on, I know I’ve fucked up. But I’m already in it this far. I might as well see it through.
Act now and repent later.
My battery indicator is red, so I ignore the missed calls and unread texts, find Burt’s number, and hit call.
“Please pick up,” I say, glancing at the doorway. “Come on.”
“Hey, sweet pea.”
I stifle a sob at the sound of his scratchy, raspy voice.
“Burt. Oh, my gosh, it’s good to hear your voice. I heard what happened. Are you okay?”
“Don’t be sorry for me. I just got a broken rib or two.” He stops to cough, wincing at the end. “I got a couple of good shots in on that little sonofabitch. And he got arrested, I heard.”
“Are you in the hospital?”
“Yeah. Gonna keep me a couple of days. When you hit your seventies, they like to make you think you’re on death’s door. It’s a little game they play. But, hell, there’s three hots and a cot. I’ll survive.”
I laugh, wiping away my tears. He sounds good—weak and definitely groggy—but he still has his wit. That’s a great sign.
“So where have you been?” he asks. “I’ve been worrying. You’re never gone this long.”
“I know and I’m sorry. I’ll be home soon and I’m going to take care of you.”
“The hell you are.”
“I’m not scared of you,” I say.
“Well, you should be. Just ask Freddy Fuckface.”
I laugh. “Listen, I hate to get off here this fast, but I have to. I’ll be unreachable for a couple more days. I’ll be at your door as soon as I get home. Do you have my friend Morgan’s number? Did she give it to you?”
“Yup. You know, I think she’s hitting on me. She wants some of this grandpa juice.”
I laugh again, relieved that he’s still his ornery self, even if that last part was a bit nauseating. “You’re probably right. But if you need anything at all, call her. She’ll help you.”
“Are there parameters on that? Like are you talking dinner or sponge baths?”
“Burt, behave.” I pause. “And, Burt?”
“Yeah, sweet pea?”
“I’m so sorry.” My voice cracks, heavy with sorrow and guilt. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. It’s all my fault and I—”
“Nah, I’m not listening to this bullshit. None of this was your fault. But I gotta go. Someone’s standing over me with a needle.”
“I’ll see you very, very soon.”
“Bye.”
The call ends.
My heart pounds now that the deed is done and all that’s left is to face the music … or Troy. And he’s not exactly going to be a beautiful symphony over this.
It’ll be more like a symphony of destruction.
I reach for the power button but hit the voice mailbox instead. The top message is from Joseph Dallo with a time stamp of this morning.
Curiosity gets the best of me, and I hit play. Then because my hands are trembling, I turn on the speakerphone.
“Hi, Dahlia, it’s your dad. I’ve been trying to call you for a few days now. I hope you’re okay. I just want to give you a heads-up that much is going to happen very soon. You might want to keep your head down for a while, just in case. I’ve spent my whole life trying to keep you safe and I don’t want to fail you now. This will be over soon. I promise.”
I press the power button and turn to shove my phone back in my bag. But I only get partially turned when my gaze is met with a set of steely gray eyes.
My body runs hot. My cheeks flame. I try to control my breathing so I don’t panic … because he’s pissed.
“What will be over soon?” he asks, his eyes blazing. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I can explain.”
“You better do it quick.”
I take a quick breath. “Troy, hear me out. I had to know how Burt was doing. It’s all my fault and I know it was stupid. But—”